July 24, 2014

I have
ten minutes left in the morning before I have to dash out the door and head to
work. He’s sitting on the couch reading a commentary (probably on Romans), his
empty cereal bowl rests on the coffee table in front of him and the fresh scent
of his cologne hangs in the air. I could empty the dishwasher or double check
my inbox one more time or fold that last bit of laundry; but, instead, I find
that open spot next to him on the couch and settle in. His hand finds mine and
he tells me about how he’s been praying for me and how he’s so glad he married
me and all I feel is wonder. Wonder and gratitude. What outrageous Grace
is this that I can call him mine.

In what
very little I know of marriage, having only lived it for four years thus far,
it seems that marriages often go through seasons of change. For us, there have
been seasons of inexplicable conflict, quick criticism, irritability, and
general frustration. (Most often due to my selfishness) And there have been
seasons of equally inexplicable peace and oneness, ridiculous fun and laughter,
passionate love, and sweet, sweet friendship… Most of the time this whole
thing is really easy, and sometimes it is really hard and always it is really,
really worth it.

I
know a time will come when other distractions - in the form of heavier
workloads, busier schedules or perhaps even diapers - will plunge us into new
seasons of spread-thinness and exhaustion and leave little time for quiet
mornings on the couch holding hands. So today, I am thankful for this season.
For the respite and the shoring up of resources and the mysterious oneness that
marriage brings. For the man whose hand I hold and whose prayers I hear whispered
in the early mornings and whose warmth I find in the late nights. I’m thankful
for the Grace that holds us together on the days when everything else seems to
be trying to tear us apart. And I am so, so thankful that I am his.

July 17, 2014

Two months ago today, my husband
walked up the steps and across the Pacific-black-and-red platform to accept his
diploma and doctoral hood. It was a hot,
humid day in May when, surrounded by my family and his, I watched my husband
finish his journey as a student and step into his new role as Doctor. (I only
cried a little) Four years, three
major Boards exams, four different preceptorships, and countless hours upon
hours of studying later… we’re done. This post has surely been a long time
coming, but – as it is wont to do – life inevitably hit “fast-forward” the
moment he crossed the platform. And here we are, two months later.

Dr. Cole Boboth. I could not be more
proud. “Proud” even seems the wrong word. I suppose it would be more accurate
to say that I could not be more honored. I feel so honored to have been the one
chosen to stand on the sidelines of this journey of his, cheering him on and
watching him excel and grow into one incredible doctor.Guys, can I just tell you about my husband
for a second?

Here’s the deal: Optometry school
ain’t no joke. It’s four intense years of studying, dilating, refracting,
studying, testing, and studying and studying and studying. It’s a lot of
material and a lot of work; and it takes a lot of time. And you know what? He’s
done. We’re done. And through it all, Cole maintained the most incredible attitude
and balanced his roles as husband and student with amazing grace.

It certainly was not easy, no.
However, in the midst of the late nights and the big tests and the multiple
relocations, these four years have been a phenomenal display of God’s
faithfulness and grace in our lives.I
want to sit here and spill ALL.THE.WORDS. about how amazing my husband is and
how hard he’s worked and how sacrificially he’s loved me and how proud I am to
call him mine – but if we’ve learned one thing over these last four years at
all, it’s that it was never about Cole in the first place. Granted, Cole worked
his hiney off and I am humbled and grateful beyond words at how God has blessed
Cole’s hard work; but even then, it’s not about that.

These four years have been so, so
sweet and so, so hard.They have been
years of God wrenching from my hands plans that I’ve held too tightly – only to
be replaced with plans far better than we could have dreamed up.They have been years of late nights riddled
with anxiety, as God gently put His finger on places in my heart over which I
warred for total control. They have been years of discomfort, as we struggled
to find our place and establish friendships in a new city – and then, as we had
to say goodbye to those friends who had become family. They have been years of
selfishness, frustration, and sanctification, and God (oftentimes through my
husband) graciously reminded me that all is grace. They have been years of
ridiculous laughter and hormonal tears and so many more games of “Four on a Couch”
than we can count. They have been the very best four years of my life, spent by
the side of my very favorite person. And I am so stinkin’ grateful.

This journey has been so long and
so very short. And here we are at its end – a teensy bit travel-weary, a little
overwhelmed, and so, so, so very grateful for the way in which we’ve seen God
work in our lives through it all.And
now we stand at the beginning of our next adventure – excited for what’s to
come and eager to trace the faithfulness of our Father in the journey.

Just Us

We will also remind you that this is just aBLOG…just the highlights. We don’t sit around happily smiling for pictures all day long. Our life is far from perfect: we are imperfect people serving a perfect God. We do strive to glorify God, but we fail miserably and find comfort in knowing that our debts have been paid and we have been set free.